Music Video
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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
BJ the Chicago Kid
Additional Vocals
CHIKA
Vocals
Brasstracks
Horn
Lido
Programming
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
BJ the Chicago Kid
Songwriter
CHIKA
Songwriter
Brasstracks
Songwriter
Peder Losnegård
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Lido
Producer
Mike Bozzi
Mastering Engineer
Erik Madrid
Mixing Engineer
Edvard Larsen
Producer
Thurston McCrea
Recording Engineer
Lyrics
It's up to you (it's up to you)
Yeah
If fairy tales are true, yeah
Fairy tales are stories with lessons and allegories
That tell us about the world that could be
But I see no mention of bad shorties or niggas sippin' on forties
No heroes inside a book look like me (oh, yeah)
I don't ever mourn my childhood
Know my folks is happy that they child good
Imperative a narrative reflect what's up in my hood
Figured that the remedy is simple
Let's make a couple hits for all the kids that need a symbol
Let's remind 'em that they matter, the media can chatter
And peer into their lives to form statistics like we data
Spin a yarn 'bout candy ladies or 'bout waking up on Saturday
Mama blasting gospel, cleanin' house, gon' take 'bout half the day
Afterwards, we pass a J, think of all who passed away
Smoke blown out the window, that's a sin, though, know what Pastor say
In services 'til late noon, wafers paired with grape juice
Create a classic spittin' 'bout some shit we can relate to
'Cause ain't nobody talking bout a beanstalk, nigga
Lemme tell you when the threes drop, nigga
We get higher than the treetops, nigga
Pied Piper gone to jail because the streets talk, nigga
Role models only real until the beat stop, nigga
Karens love the coloreds if it's Deepak, nigga
But her walls so dry, call it sheetrock, nigga
This is heat rock, bigger than the world that I'm livin' in
If I gotta kill a beat, I'll make it deliberate
Fee-fi-fo-fum, we live, go dumb
Get a little streetwear, now you think you know some
Show and tell, dress up, little weird after you four-some
Fiendin' for oppression, I can really let you hold some
Better bet they show they ass, better bet I throw some
Jumpin' through the hoop like an acrobat
Then a nigga jump into the booth after passin' that
My niggas the truth and so it's true, they be after that
Ah
Ah-ah, ah-ah
Ah-ah, ah-ah
Ah-ah, ah-ah
Ah-ah, ah-ah
Writer(s): Peder Losnegard, Bryan James Sledge, Ivan Jackson Rosenberg, Jane Oranika, Edvard Larsen
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